The Game
by CrossedScarsX
Summary: A rash of kidnapping's land Saitou and Sanosuke into a dangerous investigation. Tis shonen ai yaoi stuff so no read if no like! T for language. There's one other pairing here, but I won't say, as it could spoil the plot. UPDATED after years long hiatus!
1. Chapter One

"A Sano/Saitou Fanfic" (working title)

TY for all the reviews! This piece was originally a teaser just to see if people would like what I wrote for Sano and Saitou, and since I got some positive feedback I will now go on with the story! Yay! I hope to actually finish this piece…I have a habit of starting things without finishing them…But I don't plan on making this story overly long like my others so I probably will! I was originally going to make this a longer but I think I make this only three or four parts at most…plus I've revised and the first chapter, so please reread that!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Rurouni Kenshin or any other copyrighted characters used in this story…Is it possible to own Saitou-sama? I mean he existed right? So how can anyone own him? Oo Maybe Watsuki-sama just owns the representation of him… :: goes off rambling about random things ::

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Sanosuke shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he walked down the dusty streets of downtown Tokyo. The pockets were empty…evidence of a recent unlucky streak in a gambling house not to far from here, not that he'd had much money in them to begin with. He kicked the dirt, causing a cloud of dust to rise at his feet.

It was getting late in the day, and he was getting hungry. His right hand, still damaged from the fight against Shishio, began to itch, harkening a coming summer rain, adding to his discomfort. He thought about going to the Akabeko begging some food from Tae…but he decided against it, recalling her threatening remarks the last time he'd come looking or a free meal. Going to the dojo was out of the question…Kenshin and the others had gone to Yokohama, and Sanosuke outright refused to board the train.

_Maybe I can talk Katsu into taking me out to eat,_ Sanosuke thought, _He doesn't live to far from here._

He had little time to contemplate this course of action any further when something—no someone—caught his eye. Sanosuke froze in his tracks as a tall and lanky man, dressed in the familiar blue of a police uniform entered a teahouse a few yards up the road. Sanosuke didn't see his face, as the man had been facing away from him, but the nihontou hanging from his belt was proof of his identity.

_What the fuck? Saitou Hajime here? I thought he was supposed to be dead! _Sanosuke's mind continued to race as he watched the man begin to walk away. Sanosuke's earlier thoughts of food left him and he trotted up to the entrance of the bar—the Ichiroya Tea House, Sanosuke realized and peeked inside.

It was Saitou alright…the same cigarette smoking, nihontou toting teme that had supposedly been killed in Shishio's fortress nearly a year ago. So he had survived the fire? Why didn't he tell anyone?

Saitou was sitting and speaking to a rather roly-poly man in a dark corner of the teahouse. The man was wearing a western style business suit, and drinking some sake. Sanosuke saw the fat man offer some to Saitou, who declined, and then continued talking.

There was a cold and calculating gleam to Saitou's eyes, but then again, when wasn't there? Sanosuke couldn't recall any time Saitou wasn't cold and calculating, and if there was any other side to the stoic police officer, he kept it well hidden.

Sanosuke decided wait outside the tea house, around the corner of the building so as not to be seen by Saitou when he came back out. After all, Saitou was probably conducting police business, and if that was the case, he'd best not interrupt. He'd just wait till their little conversation was over before giving the bastard a good hard punch in the face.

He waited for ten minutes before Saitou reemerged, stopping for a moment to light a fresh cigarette, and began to head down the street. When he'd gotten a fair distance away, Sanosuke followed.

He did his very best to be discrete; knowing the only real way to give Saitou the beating he deserved was with the element of surprise. It wasn't long, however, before Sanosuke lost sight of his quarry as he rounded a corner near the police station.

"Che," Sanosuke swore, "Where the hell'd he go? I know I saw him come this—"

Sano didn't have the opportunity to finish his sentence before strong arms pulled him roughly into a small dark alley and cold steel was pressed against his neck.

"Ahou, why are you following me?"

Sanosuke growled. "Fuck you, Saitou…let go of me!" he demanded.

"Not until you answer my question. Why are you following me?" Saitou asked him again, pressing the blade ever closer to the flesh of Sanosuke's neck.

"You teme…You're supposed to be dead. I wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing ghosts," Sanosuke snarled.

Saitou pushed the younger man away from him roughly. Sanosuke glared at him.

"So? I'm alive, what difference does that make to you?" Saitou asked, nonchalantly.

"You're a real asshole, you know that! You still owe me a fight!"

Saitou smirked. "Ah, so you're plan was to ambush me from behind, and prove you could defeat me? You really should work on your stealth. I have known you were there since I entered that teahouse."

"Fuck you."

Saitou continued to smirk. "Yes, you've said that already. What is this obsession you have with fucking me?"

"T-teme…" Sanosuke sputtered, embarrassed. He looked away, knowing his face was bright red. He tried to think of some biting come back but failed. Instead, Sanosuke did what came most naturally to him. He threw a punch.

It didn't meet its intended target. Saitou easily caught it before it landed and twisted Sano's wrist in mild annoyance.

"Ah, did I strike a nerve?"

Sanosuke didn't reply. He didn't even look at him.

"Ahou. You can't expect to fight me with a punch as weak as that one," Saitou told him. "Go home. You're just making me late."

With that, Saitou began to walk away, leaving Sanosuke in the dark alley.

He hadn't taken more than five steps before he heard Sanosuke speak again.

"Wait."

Saitou stopped, but did not look back and did not say anything.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were alive?"

To this Saitou replied, "Why do you care?"

Sanosuke hesitated. Why did he care? Saitou had been nothing but a complete pain in the ass since the moment they had met. But still…he could not deny the feeling of genuine sadness as Saitou's "death."

After a moment of silence Sanosuke answered him. "Yeah, well…It's just seems kinda rotten of you to us think you were dead, ya'know? I thought we were supposed to be allies…or something."

"Hn. We may have been allies against Shishio and his men, but once he was dead, I no longer had any reason to keep in touch with you and Battousai. So unless—heaven forbid—a similar need arises in the future, I will not ally with the likes of you ever again."

Saitou continued on his way again. With a "humph," Sanosuke shoved his hands into his pockets and began to follow him.

"Why are you in Tokyo then?" he asked as they walked.

"That's none of your business."

"Ah, police stuff then?"

"Why are you still following me?"

"I'm bored. Kenshin, Jou-chan, and the kid are off in Yokohama. They shouldn't be back for a few days."

"And I'm guessing you lost all your money gambling and so you couldn't buy a ticket to go with them, am I right?"

"Uh, yeah…something like that." Sanosuke replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his hand with his good hand. There was no way in hell he'd admit to Saitou that he was afraid of trains.

"Fujita-san!"

The pair looked to see another police officer running toward them as they approached the station.

"What is it, Kano?"

Kano was a pleasant looking man of medium stature, with somewhat fluffy brown hair and brown eyes. He had a soft face, which at the moment was contorted into a look of urgency.

"There's been another kidnapping!" Kano explained.

"Shit." Saitou flicked what was remaining of his latest cigarette to the dirt before quickly entering the station with Kano. Sanosuke followed.

The trio made their way to the back of the police station and into a small office—which Sanosuke decided was Saitou's, a belief confirmed as the officer sat at the paper covered desk.

"Who was it this time?" Saitou asked.

"A politician's son…Yamazaki Takahiro."

Saitou frowned. "Damn, just what I need, a politician breathing down my neck."

"You guys talking about those kidnapping that I've read about in the paper?"

"What paper?" Kano asked, looking at Sanosuke as though he just realized he was there. "Who are you?"

"Name's Sagara Sanosuke, nice to meetcha!"

"He must be referring to that anti-government paper run by Tsunan Tsukioka. I'm actually surprised you can read at all." Saitou commented.

"Hey!" Sanosuke growled, "I can read! A little."

Saitou smirked. "Didn't I tell you to go home? This isn't any of your business."

"Boss!" The argument that could have been was interrupted by a familiar and strongly accented voice.

"Broomhead!" Sanosuke shouted!

"Roosterhead? Wha the heller you doin' 'ere?"

"Chou!" Saitou snapped.

Chou looked back at his superior. "Uh, yeah right. I found some information on that Kitamura case I've been working on. I think it might interest you."

"Go on."

"We just arrested some guy who used to work for 'im. 'Said he'd heard Kitamura was paying people to kidnap young men from around the area. He couldn't tell us more 'an that, but I figured you'd appreciate the lead."

"Kitamura?" asked Sanosuke, "I've heard about him. He's got a hold on a few gambling halls in the area…but I hear most of his real strong hold is in Kyoto."

Sanosuke looked at Saitou. He seemed to be considering this information. He casually lit another cigarette, then turned to Kano. "Telegraph the Kyoto police. Find out what they might know about the situation."

"Right away sir!" With that, Kano left to perform his task. Chou went off to pursue his own work.

Sano in the mean time was standing there smiling. "I guess it's a good thing that I decided to come along after all, ne?"

"Ahou. Do you really think you've been any help? We already knew about Kitamura's dealings in gambling."

Sanosuke glared at him. "Yeah but would you have thought to contact Kyoto?"

"Eventually." Saitou replied coolly, then breathing out a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah sure."

"You'd best leave now, Ahou. I have answered your questions, not that I owed you any explanations, and you have no other business here. Go home before I throw you in jail for interfering with police business."

"Interfering my ass! I'm outta here." Sanosuke muttered before heading off to find something to eat. By now his hunger had returned with a vengeance, and was not to be ignored.


	2. Chapter Two

Ch. 2

OMG I actually updated something! Betcha thought I died…lol. I am so bad at updating my work. I actually would have update a few days ago but FF.net wasn't working for me sooo yeah…-.-; Any way here is chapter two…er at least some of it. I might lengthen this chapter like I did with the last one, because this is a little short again and also I think I can do more with it, but I don't want to keep you waiting any longer, so here it is! I actually don't like this chapter all that much I think that everyone is extremely OOC…I'll probably fix that. Don't worry, even if I make major changes to this chapter, the story line will remain intact. Okay will out further Adieu! CHAPTER TWO!

***

Sano took another long swig of the sake, enjoying the warm tingle as it poured down his throat. _Damn_. Another swig. _Damn that teme…acting all fucking high and mighty, like I'm some sort of idiot._ Sano frowned. He had never claimed to be particularly smart. He knew he was far from Saitou's intellect, but he knew he wasn't dumb. 

Saitou…that jerk! Sanosuke had no idea why he bothered him so much. Sure the man had nearly tried to kill him in their first encounter…but then again if Saitou were really out to kill the fighter-for-hire he in all likelihood would have succeeded. Sanosuke sighed. He stared into his now empty cup, not noticing a pair of eyes watching him from across the room.

It was late by the time Saitou managed to leave the office. He was out the door and halfway down the street when he heard Chou running up behind him.

"Boss!" he called, "Waitta minute!"

Saitou paused momentarily so Chou could catch up and once the blonde officer was near he began walking again without looking back.

"What is it?" he asked in his unconcerned manner.

"I telegraphed the Kyoto police as you ordered."

"And?"

Chou sighed. "T'ain't good. 'Said they found three bodies matching the descriptions of some of the missin' people."

"Wonderful," Saitou. "How were they killed?"

"It was different fer all three. One was stabbed. Another strangled. The third was shot. Actually they all had multiple injuries. Those were just the things that killed 'em."

"Hn." That was the only response given to this bit of information. Saitou then paused abruptly, almost causing Chou walk straight into him, and lit a cigarette. His face twisted in thought as he took a long drag in and breathed an even longer sigh out. 

"I guess I'll be on the next train to Kyoto then," he said then, "Its too late to do anything tonight though, I'll just—"

Saitou broke off to the sound of someone yelling and the distinctive sound of fists on skin. It was coming from an alley not too far from where he and Chou had stopped. Without a word the two cops went off to investigate.

Sanosuke awoke to a pounding headache and pain in his shoulder. He was in a futon, in a room that he didn't recognize. It was a typical room, with shoji screens and tatami mats lining the floor. There were two large blue and white vases by the door, which told him he was neither at the dojo nor the kitsune onna's clinic. So…where the hell was he anyhow?

Sanosuke reached over to his afflicted should and found it had been bandaged—apparently by one who knew what they were doing. He tried to get up, but that action made his head spin and he fell back down to the futon. Grunting in frustration, Sanosuke tried to recollect what had happened the night before.

He remembered leaving the police station annoyed and confused. Sanosuke had never been good at dealing with either of those emotions, so he went and did the only thing that made sense to him—he went drinking. 

'Yeah…that would explain the headache,' he mused, grimacing.

But what had happened after that? He remembered being at a bar…and downing a healthy amount of sake…then he remembered a man…no a group of men actually…cornering him in an alley not too far away from there afterwards.

Sanosuke closed his eyes…only to see a pair of feral yellow ones staring back at him. Saitou.

Sanosuke groaned again as it all came back in a flash. That teme had shown up in the middle of the ensuing fight—a fight which, due to the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, had not been going too well for Sanosuke—and then…well he couldn't really remember what happened after that. It was all a blank.

Sanosuke frowned and tried to get up again, slowly this time, and managed to crawl out of the futon and then stand up. It was at this time he realized his 'aku' jacket was neatly laid out on a chair in the corner. He pulled it on over his bandaged shoulder before cautiously sliding the shoji door open and peeking out. 

The room he entered was a mix of eastern and western styles. It wasn't really flashy, but there were a few nice scrolls and wall hangings here and there and in the far corner of the room was a polished wooden desk. Actually Sanosuke didn't give a rats ass about the furnishings of the room at the moment. He was more preoccupied with the man sitting at the said desk.

Saitou had been writing something on a piece of paper when sanosuke entered the room and now was looking up at him.

"So the ahou finally decided to get up." He stated cooly.

Sanosuke glared at him. "Shut up. Where the hell am I?"

Saitou smirked. "How am I supposed to shut up and answer you at the same time?"

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, DAMNIT!"

Saitou continued to smirk. "You are at my home."

"Why?"

Saitou had gone back to writing. "Surely you remember what happened last night?"

Sanosuke stared. "I went drinking," he said.

"Yes, I noticed. Then you were attacked and in your pitiful sate couldn't even handle a low rate bunch of fighters. Chou and I had to rescue you."

"Che I didn't ask you for your help!" he snapped, embarrassed that Saitou had seen him in such a pathetic state no more than a few hours after having called him weak. Again. Even more so by the fact that that idiot Chou had also seen it. "But why am I at your house?"

"You were injured…nothing life threatening, but it needed some attention. I was tired and rather than drag your sorry carcass across town to Takani Sensei's clinic, I just brought you here and took care of it myself."

"Heh. I didn't know you cared."

"Don't flatter yourself. Anyway you should come to the station today…to file a report." 

"Like hell! Why should I do that?"

Saitou looked up at him. "Because, ahou, if you don't, I'll have to allow the two idiots we captured back on the streets."

"And I should care why?"

"Also, if you refuse to help me out I will simply arrest you for disturbing the peace in your drunken state last night," added Saitou.

Sanosuke's jaw dropped. "Fucking hell. You would too. Che."

Saitou got up and grabbed his uniform jacket. "So you will come to the station?"

"Not like I have much of a choice, huh?" muttered Sanosuke through gritted teeth.

Saitou just gave his trademark smirk.

***

Here is where I answer questions and comments I thought needed answering!

Fluffy8: A reader after my own heart…MEOW! Lol Kitty kitty kitty…hehehe

ShadowSpirit: I am a Miss not a Mr. but thank you for your compliments lol

KlebKat: Hehehe….Maybe… . . e.e lol

FarStrider: Yup I am a member…too bad I have next to no clue how to used the Yahoo groups, otherwise I'd spend more time there. I'm grateful for the links on it though…hehehe they were a god send. (Uses mostly MSN group, they are a bit more user friendly, lol)

Kiryuu: I completely agree that if Saitou were to question Sanosuke directly, Sano would not give information willingly. However if you look at what I have written, you will notice that no one asked Sanosuke for his opinion. He was sort of just doing his little narrator bit like he does in the show, lol. It just helped my story along for his bit of conversation to be useful to our little Wolf and Broom. ^.~

To all the rest: Thanks for all your support! I really appreciate it!


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Sanosuke left with Saitou to the police station, grumbling the entire way.

When the ex-kenkaya and former Shinsen got to the station, Saitou was immediately approached by Kano. The young officer shot a short and slightly disgusted glance toward Sanosuke before saying something in a low hushed voice to Saitou. Whatever he had whispered, the way Saitou's eyed narrowed indicated that he seemed to take a keen interest in it. After a moment of silent consideration, Saitou looked pointedly at Sanosuke.

"Follow me."

Sanosuke followed the sadist cop down a dimly lit back hallway of the police station in aggravated silence. After what felt like an eternity, the pair came to a halt outside a room located at the very end of the hall. Saitou extracted a set of keys that jingled loudly in the dark echoing chamber, and opened up the heavy metal door.

Inside the cell, a man with his hands bound in a heavy wooden cuff sat on a stone bench that had been built right into the hind wall. The man was of a medium and muscular build. He didn't look more than twenty-five or so. His clothes were plain and simple: a brown robe tied with a navy blue obi. His cropped hair was brown and unkempt. His green eyes looked up at the pair as they entered.

"Oi, what's the deal?" asked Sanosuke. "I thought you said all I had to do was file a report."

"Turns out it'll be a bit more than that," answered Saitou. "Wouldn't you agree, mister Ihara Kosho?"

Ihara Kosho glared at them, not saying anything.

"Not the talkative type then?" Saitou commented. "Pity."

He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and then an equally long sigh.

"I've been told you were a little more forthcoming for Agent Chou." Saitou continued.

It was then Sanosuke notice a large bruise on the prisoner's cheek.

"Maybe I should call him back in here?"

Ihara finally spoke up. "I already told that idiot what the hair what I know."

"Ah yes," said Saitou, "But I prefer hearing my information first hand, so if you please, explain to me, why you and several other thugs were attempting to kidnap this man?"

Sano froze. _Kidnap? _They were trying to kidnap him? What the hell? WHY? Its not like there was anything to be gained from kidnapping him, so why?

"What the fuck is going on here?" Sanosuke yelled.

"You really are an ahou." Saitou answered, turning to the increasingly irritated nineteen-year-old street fighter. "You are the newest target of all those lovely little kidnapping sprees you say you've been reading so much about."

"The fuck…" Sanosuke faltered for a moment. "But why? How? …Why???"

"That's what I want to know. So if you please," Saitou said turning back to Ihara, "before I decide to show you how much more dangerous than Chou I can be." He said this with the slightest hint of a feral smirk.

Sanosuke scoffed. "He should be more worried about me. It's well known I have MUCH less restraint then either you or the broom." Sanosuke cracked his knuckles threateningly.

Ihara eyed the two—and also the katana by Saitou's side—wearily.

"I told your subordinate." He said. "I did it for the money."

"Who pays you?"

"I do all my business through a middle man. I don't know who or where the money comes from."

"Like hell you don't!" Sanosuke snapped.

Saitou grabbed Ihara by the cuff of his robe and pinned his back harshly against that wall. "There have been rumors flying around about Kitamura paying people to kidnap young men in the area." He continued, seething. "It isn't just in Tokyo either. Kyoto, Okinawa, and even Nagasaki have reported missing persons. All are male between the ages of eighteen and forty. Many have already been found murdered. I suggest you talk before I decide to show you how much more dangerous than Chou I can be."

Saitou had a wild and piercing look in his eye, one that even made Sanosuke dare not test the man behind the gaze.

Ihara gave and audible whimper. "Alright." He choked out. Saitou released him.

"The guy who gives me the money said he works for Kitamura. It's my job to lure and capture intended targets, then deliver them to Kyoto by train. I get paid when the merchandise is in his hands."

It was now Sanosuke's turn to get angry. "Merchandise? You mean _people_ you sorry piece of shit! ME!"

"How do you get so many people on the trains with out anyone noticing?"

"There's a railroad worker in Kyoto, he's also on Kitamura's payroll. We ship the victims in crates labeled as silks and what not. The victims are all drugged so they won't make any noise on the trip. He sees to it that those crates are undisturbed."

"Why does he want some many people?" Saitou continued to ask, "Why would he want to kill them? They are mostly nobody hoodlums. When it comes right down to it, Kitamura is a businessman. Where is the profit in all of this?"

Ihara hesitated. "I hear…I hear that Kitamura built a new gambling facility in the mountains around Kyoto. Its…like cock fights…only there ain't any roosters."

Sano swore.

Saitou extinguished his cigarette against the wall. "Shit." He closed his eyes for a long tense moment before he said anything.

"The real question for you now, Ihara, is how you are going to rectify your actions? I'm prepared to strike a deal with you. You help me take down Kitamura, and I'll pull some strings for you. You might get a year or two in prison rather than say a life sentence, or even…execution." Saitou said that last word in a low and deadly voice.

Ihara looked extremely uncomfortable at the thought of the death penalty. He squirmed a for a short while under the pressure of Saitou's piercing gaze before asking:

"What do I have to do?"

A/N: Yes, its short…but I think its good nonetheless…and any update is preferable to no update, lol. Beside, I didn't think it made sense to keep going, the next part didn't seem like it would fit with this chapter. Please R/R, I appreciate them even if I don't update often.


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: See chappie one!

**Inskoolthisblos:** I feel speeshul that you found my story more important than school, but STUDY!

**viciouscallisto: **Staring contests are fun!

**Shiko:** I UPDATED. And YES you will find out why he fears his wife.

**Everyone else:** Thanx for your reviews!

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Chapter Four

_I hate him._

_I really hate him._

_Did I mention that I hate him?  
_  
Sagara Sanosuke thought back over the events that had transpired that past few days. After Saitou had persuaded Ihara to cooperate with him, they had learned a few more bits of information. One was that the kidnapping part was a relatively new thing. Up until recently, most of the victims had been volunteer fighters looking for a chance to hone their skills, prove their abilities, or just earn some quick cash. It was a profitable and illegal business, gambling on fights to the death, but it wasn't long before Kitamura, in his insatiable greed, realized it was even more profitable if he didn't have to pay the victors. Disposable slaves it was decided, were more desirable. If the kidnapped victims didn't fight, they were shot. If they fought and won, they lived, with the added bonus of being fed that evening.

The second bit of information they pried out of Ihara was that Sanosuke had been a target of Kitamura's organization for months now. By now very few volunteer fighters trickling in and Kitamura had become increasingly dependent on the men brought in by force. Unfortunately this had led to a bit of a paradox. All though it was cheaper, the many new and desperate (and sometimes completely unskilled) men being forced to fight, the paying spectators were becoming upset. They wanted a glorious carnage, not a lamb to the slaughter.

So...with the spectators being Kitamura's main source of income, he had begun searching for and recruiting reputable fighters from all over Japan.

Ihara explained that two months before, he had approached Zanza and asked if he was interested in taking up a fight for cash but Sanosuke had declined, saying he wasn't in the kenkaya business anymore.

"I remember that!" exclaimed Sanosuke, completely flabbergasted. "Shit, I thought you were looking for revenge on someone...but...fuck..."

Ihara nodded. "Yes, I didn't push it at the time. I had heard the rumors flying around about how you had stopped fighting for money, but I had been told see if you'd be interested. Afterwards, I was told to take you in by force, but you reputation, as well as the company you keep, well, there honestly weren't many men willing to take you on."

Sanosuke had to grin at that. "Hell ya!"

"Company? You mean Battousai?" Saitou questioned.

"Exactly," Ihara answered. "So I started having you watched, looking for the right moment. Yesterday, Battousai was out of town. With him out of the way, it was easier to target you, once you hit that bar last night, I seized the opportunity."

Saitou looked at Sanosuke. "And you never once noticed anyone spying on you? Not in all of two months? You really are pathetic."

"Shut up, we can't all be perfect little pricks." Sanosuke snapped. He was now not only angry but for umpteenth time in two days, Saitou had managed to make a fool out of him. Why did fate have to conspire against him all the time?

Saitou ignored Sanosuke's insult. "Anything else you have to tell me?"

"No."

Saitou went to the door and called for Kano. "I want you to go find Chou and ask him for a list of missing persons thought to be related to this case," he told him. "Show them to Ihara-san and see if he recognizes any of the names."

"Yes sir."

It took Kano probably only four or five minutes to retrieve the documents from Chou, but it seemed a lot longer to Sanosuke. Saitou stood in the corner and had lit his...well, Sanosuke had lost count of the number of cigarettes "Chimney Man" had puffed...and looked at Sanosuke through the smokey haze, not saying a word. Sanosuke felt like the cop was looking more through him than at him. Or maybe that was just because of the smoke?

After Kano had returned and Ihara had confirmed and dismissed various missing persons, Saitou had taken Sanosuke aside and to his office.

"Wait here," He ordered, and then added as he left the room, "Don't touch anything."

"Like I'd want to touch your stuff? I don't know where it's been!" Sanosuke yelled down the hall after him. "Jerk." He muttered.

Sanosuke really hated police stations. He hated Saitou even more. Both had a tendency to grate on his nerves. Spending time with both was really getting irritating. He wanted to pound on something, anything. Without thinking he brought down a fist onto the mahogany desk residing in Saitou's office.

"Really, now what did the desk ever do to you?"

Sanosuke glared as Saitou reentered, followed closely by Chou.

"You know what? I'm really not in the fucking mood for this right now."

Saitou gave him a look somewhere between amused and chastising. "Now, now, language," He remarked.

Damn. He's up to something.

And he had been.

It was simple, really: Sanosuke would infiltrate the facility as a prisoner, Saitou as an ex-samurai looking for a place to hone his skills, and Ihara would be there to make sure that the whole transaction went smoothly. Chou would follow them all discreetly to the facility's location and wait for word from Saitou. Kano would also tag along; to make sure Ihara wouldn't try and skip out on them once the transaction was made.

All in all, Sanosuke had been pleasantly surprised when Saitou asked (well ordered and mildly threatened might have been a better choice of words) him to help with the investigation. After all, it would give him a chance to bring down his would be kidnappers and do a little good for Japan. Not to mention that he would be kicking some serious ass in the process.

In addition to these personal advantages, Saitou had promised a substantial sum of yen for his assistance.

But the mission DID have its drawbacks.

One, he'd be working with Saitou—the patronizing, cold blooded, psychopathic Aku Soku Zan man himself—and Sanosuke's other main irritation, Chou. The other thing was that they'd be going by train.

Sanosuke opened his eyes again. He just HAD to be sharing the same damned train car with Mibu's Wolf too. Saitou was dressed in civilian clothes—a green kimono and dark grey hakama. Chou and Kano had been made to keep tabs on Ihara.

He shifted in his seat, moving a little further from the window. There was no way in hell he would let himself be poised to fall through the glass if any ghost decided to derail the monstrous machine from the tracks.

"Do you have to squirm like that?" Saitou asked from behind closed lids.

"What's it to you?"

"It's annoying."

Sanosuke rolled his eyes. More fidgeting.

Saitou opened his eyes. His amber eyes bore into Sanosuke as though daring him to move again. Sanosuke stared back.

_You may be able to defeat me in every other aspect but I REFUSE to let you stare me down with that twisted, evil little face of yours,_ Sanosuke thought to himself.

"..."

"..."

"Are you ok, ahou?"

Sanosuke was so focused on winning the staring contest he didn't even register the question and exclaimed: "HAH! I win!" then..."Oh...uh yeah fine. Never better. Why?"

Saitou had on a blank expression, expertly masking his surprise at the sudden outburst. "Well, for one," he replied, "you've crammed yourself so close to the wall you look as though you've grown into the wood."

"..."

Then, the train whistle blew. Sanosuke gave a little yelp and was suddenly bolt upright in his seat.

Saitou's amber wolf-like eyes flash in sudden realization.

"You're afraid of trains, aren't you?"

Damn. The jig is up.

Saitou chuckled. Evil bastard.

"Let me guess, you also think that cameras steal people's souls?" When Sanosuke didn't answer Saitou scoffed, "You really ARE a simpleton."

Oh well, the best defense is a good offense. "And let me guess, the great Saitou Hajime has no fears, huh? Fear is just for the little people in your eyes, isn't it?" growled Sanosuke. "At least I'm trying to deal with it, and not be ruled by it."

There was a short silence.

"You're right. It's wrong of me to make fun. You are dealing with it."

Blink. Did Saitou just...apologize?

"But you are wrong about the other part."

"Huh?" Sanosuke was still dumbfounded at the new civility in Saitou's voice.

"I'm afraid of some things."

Sanosuke smirked. "Name one."

Saitou smirked back. "My wife."

"…"

"You're wife?" Sanosuke asked, uncertain he had heard him correctly.

Saitou nodded.

"As in, married? As in ball and chain, married? Wife?"

"I didn't think the concept of marriage was that difficult to grasp, even for you, ahou."

Great now we're back to the insults. Fine, I can play the game too.

"Well, it just surprises me. After all, who would want to marry _you_?"

"Tokio is a good woman." Saitou said coolly, not once betraying any sign that he was insulted by Sanosuke's comment. "My wife and I are on good terms. But if the image of me in a happy family life bothers you so much, rest assured that it was an arranged marriage."

"That does make me feel better actually. Wait. Family? You haven't got…"

"Children? Yes. A boy. There's a second on the way."

"Now I KNOW you're shitting me."

"Not at all."

Just then the door to their cabin opened. It was Kano. He was also dress in casual clothing: a blue and black kimono and hakama ensemble.

"We'll be arriving at the station in ten minutes. We should get ready."

Saitou nodded and stood up. "You go with Kano, he'll take you to the baggage car. There is a crate there, get inside it and pretend to sleep. When we get there, Kano and Ihara will deliver you to the middleman, I will go with you having told them I'm just looking for a challenge. Once in keep your eye and ears open. We are looking for names, and locations of prisoners. You will be in with the other unwilling prisoners, so talk to them, and find out what you can about the situation. In the mean time I will look for any documentation of the gambling on these fights. There has to be some sort of bookie."

"Saitou," asked Sanosuke, "What happens if I am chosen to fight?"

Saitou looked at him, his face without expression. "Survive."

Sanosuke gaped at him. "But you said these were fights to the death…I would be killing innocent people!"

The Wolf of Mibu's eyes narrowed. "If you don't fight, you will be killed. If it's not your opponent, then the guards will kill you."

Sanosuke felt his face flush with anger. He was about to scream some choice words at the officer before Saitou cut him off.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that. This is intended to be a quick in and out operation. As soon as I have any hard evidence, I will contact reinforcements and take them all down." Saitou smirked. "We'll all be home in time for dinner."


	5. Chapter Five

Huzzah! New Chapter! Sorry for the long wait, but I think I have actually gotten rid of my writer's block! Any way on with the story! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Sanosuke followed Kano to the baggage car, trying his best to keep his balance as "So, how is it that you know Fujita san?"

Sanosuke was mildly thrown off by his question. "You could say we met while he was on another covert operation," he responded after a moment.

"Oh, so you have helped him similarly before?"

"I'd like to think so, but if you ask him he'll probably tell you I was just a nuisance."

Kano gave a soft chuckle. "He can be…a bit critical at times, but he usually means well. He hates mistakes…especially dangerous ones."

Sanosuke regarded him for a moment.

Noticing Sanosuke stare Kano asked: "What is it?"

Sanosuke shook his head. "It's nothing," he said amused. "Its just I've never had a civil conversation with a police officer before."

They arrived at the baggage car. It was dark and cramped room, stuffed with boxes and crates from floor to ceiling, tightly secured by various ropes and cords to prevent the more valuable items from damage. Kano approached a wooden crate in the far end of the room and pried the lid open. The crate looked like a coffin ready to be used in a cremation.

"How am I gonna breathe?" he asked Kano.

"There is an air hole on the side." He replied matter-of-factly, "In you go."

Sanosuke stepped in and lowered himself down as far as he could go and Kano replaced the cover. There was a loud banging as Kano nailed down the lid.

"I have to go now. Chou is watching Ihara and I have to take over so he can go do his bit." He told Sanosuke when he had finished.

"'Kay, see ya…and tell your boss he should try this sometime. It's a barrel of fun." Sanosuke replied sarcastically.

It was dark, cramped, and nearly suffocating hot in the crate—not Sanosuke's first choice of traveling compartments. He was taller than most Japanese men and so had to tuck his knees so he could fit into the stuffy box. But he had already felt the train come to a halt and felt confident that he would be out soon enough. Soon he felt himself being lifted and carried off the baggage car, and he had to stifle a small shout of surprise as he felt himself dropped unceremonious onto the cement of the train station platform.

Somewhere above him, he heard Ihara begin a conversation with someone.

* * *

Saitou watched carefully as Ihara approached a plump and greasy looking in a brown western style business suit with matching hat. He looked like a respectable merchant to all the passers by as he stared down Ihara with an air of disgust that fit his pompous appearance. The man's body language only served to remind him of the many dirty politicians he had dealt with in recent years.

"I have the merchandise you so desperately wanted," Ihara informed him.

"Oh?" replied the man, looking genuinely surprised and satisfied. "The one you had such trouble obtaining?"

"Yes, well, it took some…persuasion, but I think you will be pleased."

"And who is this," the man inquired, eying Saitou and the long case he carried, "…gentleman?"

"Just an old soldier, with little work to interest him in this Meiji," Saitou replied.

"Hm. You have a name?" the chubby man asked Saitou.

"Sakuma Hiroshi." He answered. "I've been doing odd jobs and occasional bodyguard jobs to make ends meat. But my real skills lie in…less acceptable forms of aggression…"

The merchant nodded. "Good work Ihara. I'm sure the boss will be very pleased with you. That will be all, and thank you for your business."

He reached into his brown jacket, pulled out a small bundle and handed it over to Ihara. "Until next we meet," he said to Ihara and dismissed him. Out of the corner of his eye Saitou saw Ihara walk back through the crowd and back to the train where Kano stood keeping watch. Things seemed to be going well.

"So, how did you hear about our little operation?" Saitou heard the man ask him.

"Ihara was in need of help obtaining Zanza. He found me to be useful." Saitou said simply. "May I ask your name sir?"

"No. The fewer people who know my name the better in this line of work."

"Ah. Very wise indeed, sir," he commented.

The man paused and looked at Saitou slightly skeptically. "You seem very polite for a common fighter—intelligent too. You say you were a soldier?"

"Yes. One learns to speak politely to their superiors in times of war," Saitou smiled, allowing for the slightest hint of a menacing air to leak through in his expression. "One never knows when heads will roll."

"So you fought in the Bakumatsu," the man stated, as he motioned for two men to haul the large crate with Sanosuke inside to the flat bed of a waiting wagon.

"That's right." Saitou confirmed, still smirking, "The chaos that reigned then…I miss it. My sword has become dull in this age of peace. I wish to sharpen it."

"So that's what you have in that case of yours."

"Precisely."

* * *

Chou watched in the distance as Saitou climbed into a wagon with the businessman and two men loaded the crate holding the rooster in the back. So far so good, it looked like the boss man had convinced him that he wanted to fight. Now all he had to do was track them. The Kyoto police has a horse waiting for him so he would be able to keep up with a carriage. He watched them ride off a bit before he began his pursuit.

* * *

It wasn't long before the wagon was out of the city and headed into the dense forest surrounding Kyoto. It was a warm day, and the light was filtering through the trees in rays. Mr. No Name reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a long cloth.

"Here," he said handing it to Saitou, "Cover your eyes. Only an elite few know the exact location of our facility. Security measures, you understand."

Saitou had expected as much and took the blindfold without any complaint. "So long as I get to fight," he said. The man looked at him looking relieved. "Good. Some of the others were less agreeable." He explained, "But I took care of that." He patted his hip. Saitou saw a flash in the bright sunlight. A gun.

"I see," he replied and began to tie the cloth over his eyes. It would be up to Chou then, to remember where the base was.

* * *

Sanosuke lay quietly inside his coffin carefully plotting the details of Saitou's death. As soon as this whole thing was over he was seriously going to kill him. His legs were cramping, it was getting even warmer and most of all one air hole was definitely NOT enough. He could hear Saitou conversing with the voice from the station but couldn't make much sense of what they were saying between the muffled effect of his wooden prison and the sound of the wagon on the bumpy road.

Gods he was bored. When were they going to get to this place anyway?

As though some kami had decided to respond to his unspoken question he felt the wagon come to a halt. Now he heard clearly a voice say "get out, you can take off the blindfold now" and "take this package to the lower levels."

Sanosuke felt himself being lifted again, and haphazardly bounced about as the people carried him walked. Suddenly there was a quick sensation of falling and Sanosuke was slammed on the ground. He bit back a cry as he smacked his head. The sudden impact made his head spin.

"YOU IDIOTS!" he heard a voice shout, "Be careful!"

_Oh yeah_, Sanosuke thought bitterly, _that bastard is SO going to die.

* * *

_

Saitou inwardly cringed as he saw the two men drop Sanosuke. That HAD to have hurt. He was grateful that Sanosuke hadn't yelled in alarm. He was actually impressed that the ahou had managed to keep quiet for the near hour's time he'd been in that crate. He had long ago—at the time of the incident with the Purgatory—decided that the Rooster was incapable of shutting his mouth for more than five minutes.

They were in a cave that was lit by torches. There were large double doors in the back. They seemed sturdy, capable of keeping people out, and in. No name motioned for Saitou to follow as Sanosuke was carried through the doors and down a staircase.

Saitou couldn't help but compare it to Shishio's fortress in scale, but the layout was completely different. It was cold and stony, very economical, but then there was no reason for the lower levels to be lavishly ornamented if they were keeping the prisoners below. Saitou wondered what the upper levels were like.

They came across a thin man who couldn't have been more than twenty-five year old as the stair way emptied into a long hallway.

"Go inform the boss that his order has arrives, with an extra volunteer." No Name told him, and Skinny nodded in reply before quickly heading up another staircase on the other side of the hall.

"After all," he said to Saitou, "He'll want to inspect his merchandise."


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: Yyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssss...after a long hiatus, I'm attempting to work on this story again. I'm just gonna have to plug away at it. I do have a basic outline for what happens, I just have to buckle down and do it. And now, lets meet our villains!

* * *

The Game, ch 6.

Chou squinted through the small binoculars that the Kyoto Police Commissioner had afforded him. It was damned useful, seeing as he had to maintain as much distance as possible from his quarry. Chou could only barely discern the movement of the carriage through what was becoming a more and more dense terrain.

_Good, _he thought. _The less I can see them, the less they can see me. _

The reluctant spy from Kansai nudged his steed along the now disappearing trail, it's only markers that of broken twigs where the carriage had passed. They were miles out of the city at this point. The birds seemed abnormally loud as they sang above the silence. Chou hoped it remained that way—the only unpredictable factor of his mission was his transportation. He might be able to be quiet, but dumb animals have a mind of their own. If the horse decided it wanted to whinny, there would be no stopping it. Chou's cover would be blown in an instant, and the whole operation would be for naught. It really was a troubling thought. Chou considered abandoning his horse altogether, seeing as the carriage was much slowed in the thick woods. He could probably keep up without any problem, and he would be less noticeable.

Chou made his decision and dismounted as quickly and quietly as he could. He secured his many swords and took off. He could not have timed his dismount any better, for not far ahead, the trees gave way to grass. There was no way a horse would be able to go undetected. Chou pressed himself behind a large tree at the edge of the clearing.

The clearing wasn't very big, but it was obvious that it was man made. Chou watched as the carriage rounded behind a large stone outcrop, and disappeared.

_A cave. The place must be completely underground. This Kitamura fella must have plenty of pocket change to fund that kinda facility. Shoot. Makes me want to reconsider going 'straight'. That kinda money sure don't come honestly._

Chou waited a few minutes before daring to make a move. He started by circling the perimeter of the clearing, surveying the entrance. He saw nothing, but that didn't mean there were no guards. Now that he knew the location, he knew that he had to hurry back to the city and report his finding to the Police Commissioner, but Chou hesitated.

_I might've found the entrance, but this sure as hell can't be the only way in or out. The Commish can send all the boys in blue he wants, but twon't do any good if the rats can just run out the back door._

Chou thought for a few more moments, then spat in irritation.

_I'll just have to go make my report an' haul tail back here—see if I can find the exit. Pain in the patuty if yeh ask me._

* * *

The hallway was long and winding. Saitou could tell that it was sinking further and further underground as he walked with the convoy of men transporting Sanosuke to the dungeon below. And it truly was a dungeon. The walls were damp and cold, and the cells were constructed with iron doors instead of the usual wooden beams Saitou was so accustomed to in the local jails.

There were men in the cells. They came from all walks of life. Some were young, some old; some were in great physical condition, while others had definitely seen better days. The one common factor was resignation. These men were the most hardened of the bunch, who'd survived fight after fight. Their faces bore the markings of rage and contempt, but lacked any gleam of hope. All of the men had given up on escape. One word came to Saitou's mind: pitiful.

Voices echoed:

"New lamb to the slaughter! Bet he doesn't last more 'en one fight!"

"I'll take that bet. I give him 2."

"Well I say he chickens out! The guards will deal with him!"

"What the hell are you guys even betting? You ain't got any shit worth wagering!" "

The group rounded a corner, and Saitou saw the same skinny man that No Name had sent upstairs when they first arrived, and two others, who were both very well dressed. Somehow the three of them had managed to get ahead of them. Saitou made a mental note: there were definitely secret passages and shortcuts in this fortress. Yes, it was definitely as complicated as Shishio's labyrinth. He'd have to unlock it's secrets if he ever hoped to get out of here alive.

The older of the two men, dressed in a finely embroidered coat with fur lining, a top hat, and pointing with an ornate walking cane, broke the silence.

"So this is my new volunteer, eh?" Saitou focused his eyes on the man—Kitamura. Kitamura's gaze was no less calculating that Saitou's. "You think you can fight?"

Saitou smiled politely. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't, sir. And I've been told you can offer me something better than a mere brawl. Dispatching bar hopping ruffians is hardly as satisfying as giving a worthy opponent a taste of my steel." He patted the case containing his sword.

Kitamura circled Saitou, looking him up and down, sizing him up. He wasn't the only one watching him like a hawk. Saitou glanced at the other well-dressed man accompanying Kitamura. He was neither short nor terribly tall, but lanky. He wore a brownish three piece suit and a golden watch chain glistened across is vest. His light-colored hair peaked out from beneath his bowler hat. At his side, he leaned on an umbrella like a crutch. There was an aura of reserved cruelty to the smile that graced his face. This man was obviously Kitamura's personal bodyguard.

Kitamura had turned his focus to the crate. "So, that's the one I've been waiting for, eh? Open that cell, and get him out of the crate. He'd better not be damaged."

The guards did as they were told, depositing Sanosuke into the nearest cell, and prying open the wooden box. Sanosuke played his part, pretending to sleep, as Saitou had earlier instructed him.

_"Don't do anything stupid like try to fight your way out as soon as the crate is opened. You'll never get out alive and you put everyone's lives are risk." _

_ Like I'd be that stupid..._Sanosuke thought to himself as he let the men roll him out of the stuffy case. He felt a jab against his ribs with something hard, and almost grunted in surprise.

"Wake up. Wake up!" Sanosuke heard someone shouting—no doubt whoever it was that had poked him. Sanosuke groaned and lazily opened his eyes. It wasn't hard to feign confusion—the cave, though dim, was still much brighter than the darkness of the crate, and sudden change in light stabbed Sanosuke's eyes. He blinked many times, trying to focus.

"Who're you?" asked Sanosuke, once he could see the man with the umbrella standing over him. "Where the hell am I?" He began to sit up, but a quick whack to the head sent Sanosuke reeling back to the ground.

Saitou watched as the bodyguard so carelessly bludgeoned Sanosuke with his umbrella. Saitou determined two things in that instant. First, this man had incredible strength. It took a great deal of force to take down Sanosuke—even Saitou couldn't fault the kid's endurance. Secondly, he could tell, just as Sanosuke had painfully realized, that this was no mere weather shield. It was strong, probably reinforced with steel. _A sword? Can't rule it out, _ thought Saitou.

"Sonofabitch!" Sanosuke growled, holding his head. "What the hell is that made of, lead?"

"Kasatsuki!" yelled Kitamura. "Try not to damage him. That's not what I pay you for."

"Apologies, Kitamura-san." Kasatsuki answered, bowing. He certainly didn't look sorry. "I just wanted to make sure he was wide awake for you." He he exited the cell before Sanosuke could completely recover, slamming the door, locking it behind him. He glided silkily to stand be side his master.

Upon seeing him, Saitou had be forced to quell the urge to remove Kitamura's head from his pudgy body. But logic, and orders, had stayed his natural instinct to carry out Aku Soku Zan. Now, Saitou was far more focused on the umbrella wielding man beside him. Kasatuski walked lightly, like a man with no attachments to the world around him. A man such as that could be very dangerous. There was no telling how this man might react if provoked.

Sanosuke interrupted Saitou's contemplations when he jumped to his feet and slammed his first against the iron barrier. "Let me the hell outta here!" he barked at his captors. "Who the fuck are you people?"

"Pipe down," Kitamura chided. "Think of me as your new employer. Sagara-san, you are said to be one of the strongest fighters in Tokyo."

Sanosuke might have smiled if her wasn't so angry. "Damn straight."

Kitamura grinned. "But despite that, you've given up the fighter for hire business."

"What's it to you, if I quit? You don't even know me."

"It just seems such a waste," Kitamura continued, "that such talent should rot away in the shadows. And I must say, as a business man, I hate waste. So I hope that this adventure proves profitable. You will be my next prize fighter in the games."

"Like hell I'll fight for you! What games? This is bullshit, let me out!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Sagara-san. You will fight, or you will die. There is no in between. Win, and you will live another day." He began to walk away, motioning for the rest of the group to follow. As they walked, Sanosuke began beating at the door, yelling curses and obscene comments about his captors and their respective mothers.

"Spirited, isn't he?" Kasatsuki commented casually.

"Indeed," Saitou replied cooly. "Like a caged bird," he added with a smile.

"Perhaps he needs his wings clipped."

"Not yet, Kasatsuki," chided Kitamura. "Let's see how he does in the games. He'll fight, I'm certain. They always do. A man will pay any price for life."

"Supply and demand at it's finest, I suppose," Saitou observed.

"If you like." They came to a large set of doors and Kitamura dismissed the guards. "This is where you'll have your fun."

The arena was splendidly massive. It was a ring surrounded by tall walls which curved inward to deter climbing, and topped with barbed wire. Even an experienced climber would not be able to escape fast enough to evade bullets from the four Gatling guns that were stationed strategically, ready to shoot any man who refused to fight. There were various weapon stations: swords, knives, halberds, maces, spears—you name it. The only thing missing was guns. Not a single one was to be seen among the provided arsenal.

"Every battle, you'll have your pick of weapon. But I can tell that you have your own favorite there," explained Kitamura, motioning the Saitou's box.

Saitou nodded. "I've been through many battles with this katana. I do not intend to use any other."

"I have a good feeling about you...Sakuma-san was it?"

"Yes."

"I like your eyes," Kitamura explained. "They're a killers eyes. I trust you will give a good us show."

"I'll do my best. I take it you would like me to draw out my battles, then?"

"The longer the show, the better the business. My customers are a insatiable bunch. And they bore easily. They all have too much money and too much time on their hands. They need entertainment. Simply killing a man won't cut it anymore."

They walked from one side of the arena to the other, and passed through another large set of doors. This corridor did not hold cells, but instead were flanked by many private rooms.

"This is where you will be staying." Kasatsuki opened one of the rooms. It wasn't lavish, but it was comfortable. "Food will be brought down to you in the mornings and evenings. You won't find any exits from this wing other than the one to the arena. Fight well, and you will be rewarded."

"Rewarded?" Saitou questioned.

"We can provide special 'comforts' for you. A girl, perhaps," Kasatsuki smirked, "or a boy, if that's you preference."

Saitou's face remained stoic despite Kasatsuki's not-so-subtle jibe.

"That's enough," Kitamura chided. "Sakuma-san, make yourself at home. You will be notified about half an hour before your match, if it is determined that you will fight. Since you're new, expect to be up this evening. I'm eager to see what you've got."

Kitamura tipped his hat, and left then, Kasatsuki trotting behind him, casting a carefree glance at Saitou on their way back through the arena doors.

_"You won't find any other exits..." _recalled Saitou. That implied that there _were _other exits. Saitou would find them. He would just have to look very, very carefully.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

Why yes, I did make another update. I recently re-watched all of the Kyoto Arc, so I'm feeling a little more confident about things in this story. It's also given me new ideas, and I think I've got a strong outline for the rest of it. Now all that is between me and finishing is plain old laziness. ^_^;

-CrossedScarsX

* * *

"Hey. Hey newbie!"

"Awww, look, I think he's gonna cry!"

"Hey there sweetheart."

"I think he looks mad. Do you think he looks mad, Joji? Yeah I think he looks mad."

Sanosuke was trying with all his being to ignore the heckling of the other prisoners. Of course, Sanosuke was Sanosuke, so it wasn't long before he reached his limit.

"Shut up! Tell me whats going on in this place or I will bust your faces in first chance I get!"

Sanosuke only received a din of cheers and more heckling. "Che."

"Pipe down, all of you," echoed a deep, commanding voice.

The chorus of cackling voices was hushed. Sanosuke looked across the hall to the old man who'd spoken. He was a grey bearded man, probably in his mid-fifties, by Sanosuke's estimates.

"Hey, Old-Timer! Tell me what's going on here!"

"You're loud. Some people are trying to rest before being brought like lambs to the slaughter. You should rest too. You'll need your strength." The way he spoke demanded attention, and obedience. Too bad Sanosuke wasn't the obedient type.

"Che. I'll rest after I bust out of here. I don't understand why you're all so damned complacent about all this. It's pathetic. All of you, just sitting around like dogs in cages, waiting to fight and win your next meal." Sanosuke spat. "What happened to your self respect? How can you just give up like this?"

One man, who looked like he had been sleeping, cracked open one eye. "Kid, you just got here, but trust me: There ain't no way out of this prison. The only way in or out is through the doors to the arena, and the only way out of there is to get past at least a dozen men—each of 'em perfectly good fighters, and four of 'em manning Gatling guns. You might have guts kid, and you don't look like a light weight either, but no one's bulletproof."

Sanosuke studied him. In contrast to the old man, this guy was young—not much older than Sanosuke by the looks of it. He sat up from his reclined position, revealing a large bandage along his left side. His movements were shaky. It was definitely a fresh wound. "Yeah, you can expect the same thing in the next few days. There's no holds barred in this thing."

"So, why don't you two elaborate on this 'thing', since I guess I'm the only person around here that doesn't get it." Sanosuke puffed. "Who are you people? Who was that guy? He knew my name, but apparently didn't have the manners to share his own."

The old man answered him. "You can call me Hisao. My friend over there is Joji. The man who spoke with you was Kitamura Noburo. He owns this place. Your survival from here on in depends on whether or not you can impress him in the arena."

"What's 'the arena'?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like," the Joji explained. "It's a big fucking ring, with an audience, and you get thrown in there with some other unlucky son of a bitch and you fight there until one of you is dead, or Kitamura decides the winner. Lucky for me, Kitamura's been calling the winners more and more lately, or I'd be pushing up the sakura trees right now." He motioned to his injury. "Kitamura stopped the fight before the other guy finished me off. Obviously, I wasn't the winner there. But Kitamura needs to slow down. He can't loose ten fighters a night. It's bad business."

"Joji was fortunate. The Doc prescribed a week of recovery for his injury."

"The Doc?" Sanosuke asked. He realized then, that Joji's wound was well cared for, despite the poor conditions they found themselves in.

"Pft. Yeah, Kitamura's got a fancy infirmary set-up in one of the wings. He's got some guy in there who tends to our wounds if he thinks we should fight again. I bet I'll get three days, tops," he guessed.

"Kitamura's not famous for following the Doc's recommendations. Not where profit is involved," Hisao added, bitterly.

Sanosuke hardened his resolve.

"Ok, listen up, I've been in a lot more dangerous situations than this. I can take down dozens of guys in a fight. I've made it past Gatling guns before, and damnit, if we work together I'm sure we can find a way out! Don't just give up! How many guys we got in here? This can't be as bad as you guys are saying!"

"We've seen guys try to escape before," interrupted Hisao. "Every single time, they don't get any farther than the arena."

Sanosuke frowned. "The arena can't be the only way in or out."

"It isn't," Joji revealed, "but no one has ever been able to escape long enough to find any of the secret doors down the hall. What makes you think you're any different?"

Sanosuke grinned. "I'm feeling lucky."

"So, Lucky, what's your big plan then?"

"I don't know," Sanosuke conceded, "But I'll think of something."

"Better think fast. The games happen about three or four times a week. Always in the evening. I guess rich folks like a little carnage with their suppers. We're due for a fight tonight. But you, you're new. You're lucky. You won't be scheduled for a death match tonight." Hisao informed Sansouke.

"Somehow I don't think I'll be taking a nap either."

"Youuu're gonna get tested~!" one of the other prisoners sang from a few cells over.

"I told you all to hush up!" Hisao yelled down the hall.

Joji explained, "You in for a practice match. But don't let that fool you—you could still kick the bucket. That rich pig who owns this place, he makes all his fighters...well, at least he makes everyone who's locked up in here...prove their skills. He'll pit you against one, maybe two of his men. There are two guys that you gotta watch out for the most. That guy with the umbrella. He's one. That guy enjoys his work a little too much if ya ask me. He'll bloody you up pretty badly before he finishes you. And he's good. He's killed at least five guys since I've been here in their practice runs. The other guy is different. I don't think he likes his job as much as Kasatsuki, but if Kitamura orders it, he'll definitely end you. He's a young thing. I fought him when I got here. They call him Urumi—after the sword he uses."

"What sort of sword?"

"It's got four blades, thin and flexible as ribbons. I'd never seen nothing like it. Once he start flailing that thing you'd best duck for cover. They'll cut you up real good if you aren't prepared. That's how I got these" He showed off several cuts on his upper arms.

"Thin like ribbons? Sounds familiar. Anyone else I should worry about?"

Joji began to laugh, but stopped and clutched his side. "Heh...worry about everyone Sagara-san. Even me."

* * *

Chou made it back to the city around five that afternoon. The ride back was much faster now that he no longer had to worry about stealth. Finding the Commissioner once he got there, on the other hand, proved harder than following the carriage.

It was busier than a beehive when Chou arrived. The Commissioner wasn't in his office. Chou had to ask no fewer than five officers and make three fruitless trips around the station, and then some parts of town. Chou was in a foul disposition when he finally found him—back in his office. The whole endeavor had cost at least an extra hour of time.

Chou made his report, detailing the location of Kitamura's facilty and and the Commissioner scratch his chin as he considered very carefully.

"I reckon the best thing to do is start gathering some troops to send up there. I'll up right away. I'm gonna looked for the front door."

"You do that. But I'm not sending any officers up there just yet."

"Why in tarnation not?" Chou demanded.

"Watch your tone. I still outrank you," scolded the Commissioner.

Chou grumbled. "Yes, _sir._"

"Sending troops up there before we find the main entrance will be fruitless and dangerous. There's no telling what kind of defense Kitamura has set up. I'm not going to send in my men blindly into a fight they can't win. I'm sure that Kitamura has guards all over the place. If I send forces to try and locate it ourselves, no doubt they'll just ring the alarm and get away."

"Yer telling me that us three are on our own?" Chou asked, incredulously.

"No. I've just received word that the Foreign Affairs Ministry is also investigating Kitamura—illegal arms dealings. It so happens that they've already got someone on the inside as well."

"Who is it?"

"They refused to give me that information. I just know that their guy is involved through Kitamura's business and social circles. He won't be slated to fight."

"So, yer telling me that the boss and the rooster are inside, an' we don't know whether they're alive or dead, and if their still breathing, they've got to track down another spy inside that fortress, who might be able to help them, but neither of them knows the other is there. Am I getting all this?"

"More or less." The Commissioner replied, matter-of-factly.

"Well, geez. Ain't that just a cake walk," Chou grumbled. "This has gotta be the most cockamamie scheme I ever heard! And trust me, I've seen a lot of cockamamie schemes. A lot of 'em I came up with myself."

The Commissioner sighed. "I don't feel any better about it than you do. But someone else manipulating things on the inside may prove useful to Fujita and Sagara."

"Well, sorry if my hopes ain't all that high. The boss is good, but he ain't psychic. I'm more willing to bet on his blade than on some Foreign Affairs Ministry's stooge."

"For now, go look for the second entrance by yourself. Take a carrier pigeon with you. If you find anything, you can send us a message faster through the air than on foot." The Commissioner continued, "You find that entrance, Sawagejou-san, and I'll send those men."

"Gotcha." said Chou. With that, he left to gather he supplies. It was getting late in the day. He'd have to camp out overnight. It was beginning to look like this would be much longer mission than anticipated. Peachy.


	8. Chapter Eight

Hey everyone! Thank you for the kind reviews! I know that these updates are coming a little slowly, but please rest assured that I've been working hard at this fic, and I have notes scattered throughout my iTouch and my cell phone and various notebooks and laptop. (heheh...order in the chaos.) I'm really developing this plot much farther than I ever imagined I would, and I have new twist and turns, original characters cropping up (As seen with our villians and Kano) and other RK characters appearing soon! I'm having a blast, so please continue reading this story! 3 CrossedScarsX

* * *

Saitou waited about half an hour before allowing himself to emerge from his quarters deep in the bowels of Kitamura's fortress. His delay was motivated by the desire to remain inconspicuous. A short wait gave the illusion that Saitou—no, Sakuma Hiroshi—was an ordinary, bloodthirsty swordsman who was awaiting his time in battle.

When he opened the door to the corridor, he saw a young man with tanned skin, and short, unkempt brown hair, passing by. No, not a young man. More like a boy. Saitou wouldn't place him at more than fourteen years old. He was definitely neither Japanese, nor was he European. Indian perhaps? He was wearing western clothing—light brown blazer and white button down shirt, which was not tucked into his cropped pants. He wore no shoes, and his feet were covered in dust. The boy stared at Saitou. Saitou returned it with a stoic expression. He did his best to gauge him, trying to determine something about the boy before he wandered off.

The kid's eyes were focused, piercing. They had a clarity which only belongedthe most skilled warriors. But there was an odd quality about him. The boy was walking freely about the volunteer wing—he was definitely a fighter—but Saitou did not detect any blood-lust in the child's gaze. He seemed separated from the rest of the world. It was like he was an outsider looking in.

Saitou gave the boy his all-purpose 'I'm not a threat smile'. "Hello there, young man. Are you part of these games?"

The boy nodded curtly, and then walked away without saying a word. _Is he mute?_ Saitou wondered. The boy got all the way to the end of the hall, and still keeping Saitou in the corner of his eye, silently pulled a key from his pocket and opened his bedchamber doors. He retreated into his quarters.

Saitou realized then, that his own room, although he could turn a latch to lock himself inside, he had not been given a key to the outside. Saitou didn't relish the thought that at anymoment he could be locked in his room. Despite the comfort, all these rooms were nothing but pretty jail cells.

If the boy had a key, then he was important. Saitou would have to keep an eye on him.

He then made his own way down the hall. He went to the very back end, and began running his hands along the wall, the corners, the light fixtures. The walls were clean and plain. The was no fancy detailing which would act as a logical cover for a hidden door. He tried to feel for any discrepancy, earnestly trying to detect some sort of secret passage. He spent several minutes searching, all while keeping an ear out for any approaching guards or fighters. Saitou frowned. Nothing. He turned and leaned his back into the wall, pulling out a cigarette.

Between the Ahou being caged, and no visible exits, Saitou knew this was going to be a long haul. If he didn't discover a way out soon, the two of them would be stuck here until they were killed in battle. Well, until the Ahou was killed in battle. Saitou was confident that there was no one in Kitamura's realm with the skill to finish him off. And, although he wouldn't admit it to Sanosuke himself, Saitou knew that there wasn't likely many people there who'd be a match for the ex-kenkaya. They'd be fine. Just trapped. Which really, in Saitou's opinion, was much, much worse. He needed to think of a way to infiltrate the greater parts of the facility, but how? He puffed determinedly at his tobacco.

Saitou heard the 'click, click, click' of Kasatsuki's finely polished shoes long before he came into view. Saitou remained easy, exhaling in his direction as he approached. The wisps of smoke painted daring lines across the bodyguard's face, turning what might have been a friendly grin into a menacing sneer.

"Enjoying yourself so far?" he greeted.

Saitou smirked. "It's a nice place you've all got here. Can't imagine the money it took to build it."

Kasatsuki joined Saitou against the wall, his umbrella dangling from his arm. Saitou motioned to it:

"Expecting rain?"

It was Kasastsuki's turn to smirk. "Oh, you'd be surprised how useful an umbrella can be. It can do so much more than shield one from the weather."

"Hn," Saitou grunted in agreement. "Just as a fine blade can do so much more than kill."

Kasastsuki's smile widened at Saitou's suggestion. "Though killing is far more interesting."

"Hn."

"You didn't find any exits." It was a statement. "No one does." Kasatsuki stopped leaning against the wall and turned to face it, running his hands against it. "You were told that you wouldn't find one."

"So I was," Saitou acknowledged. "But I haven't come this far in life by trusting everything I'm told."

Kasastsuki's smile disappeared. "Wise of you." Kasatsuki leaned in close in that slithery way of his. To anyone other than Saitou, it would have been intimidating. "Trust can be a very dangerous thing. And I don't trust you one bit." He breathed caustically into Saitou's ear. "I'll be watching you."

"I'll keep that in mind. Is that all you wished to tell me?"

"No," Kasastsuki replied, giving Saitou some space. "I've come to retrieve you. You're to be tested in the arena. We'll see how well you fight." Kasatskui turned in the direction of the ring, motioning Saitou to follow. "The boss is anxious to see you and that other new arrival in action."

"Is he to be my opponent?" Saitou inquired. That wouldn't do. He knew that fighting the Ahou was a strong possibility from the get-go. But he'd hoped to be out of here before that had a chance to happen.

"No."

Saitou found himself breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Good. Not that Saitou couldn't deal with giving the Rooster a good thrashing. Again. How many times has it been now? He smirked. Why did he enjoy knocking that kid around so much?

"You'll be fighting an old favorite of the Boss," Kasastsuki told him as they reached the entrance. "Don't worry. He's got plenty of fight in him."

Saitou smiled. "Excellent." It was time to stretch his legs.

When they entered, Saitou noticed Kitamura standing with the same brown-skinned boy from the hallway by his side. So, the kid was one of his personal bodyguards, like Kasatsuki. It reinforced Saitou's earlier assessment. All at once the samurai understood. He really wouldn't find any exits at the end of the hall.

"Sakuma-san," Kitamura called from the stands. "This is you time to show me what you can do." He turned and yelled. "JIN!"

The man that answered was tall and muscular. His clothes were simple, and stance sure. He bore an oversized dagger in each hand. "Is this him?" He pointed at Saitou. "Doesn't look like much." His voice was gruff, threatening, and disgustingly self-assured. His demeanor displayed a lack of sympathy and eagerness to kill. Saitou felt a rush of anticipation. This was a bug worth squashing.

Jin didn't walk down from the stands. He jumped high, bounding over at least six levels of bleachers to the sandy arena floor. Show off. "You ready to die, old man?" He laughed. All that posturing. Even the Ahou wasn't so blatantly full of himself.

"I'll answer with my sword." Saitou unsheathed his weapon. He went into the basic chudan* stance. This idiot wasn't worth gracing with his Gatotsu. Jin held up his weapons as well: one guarding near his face, the other poised above his head.

"On my mark!" Kitamura commanded. "BEGIN!"

Jin came at Saitou at once, his guarding hand ready to deflect and his risen hand ready to thrust. Saitou knew he had the advantage. The reach of his katana far outclassed Jin's daggers. Jin obviously knew this, and expected Saitou to attack him straight on. Jin's plan was to guard against Saitou's attack, and step in to thrust down at him. Saitou would be too busy blocking one dagger to deflect the other. He only had one sword. It would leave him open. It was a method that had fallen many fighters before him. Saitou wouldn't be one of them. He remained in his defensive stance, blocking Jin as he came in for the kill. His blow never stuck. Instead he found his offensive arm immobilized. Saitou had blocked with one hand, and grabbed Jin's wrist with the other. It was a brief pause in combat as Jin tried to use brute force to infiltrate Saitou's defense. Saitou was much stronger than Jin had given him credit for.

"You won't beat me with brute force!" Saitou snarled at him. In a flash, Saitou launched Jin into the air, using his sword. There was a distict popping noise as Jin's shoulder was dislocated. He fell gracelessly to the floor. Saitou stood over him. "Is this the extent of your abilities? Pitiful. Kitamura!" Saitou shouted. "It thought you'd have something with a little more bite! I'm disappointed."

"I'm not done yet fool~!" Jin stood up. With a grunt, he pushed his should back into place.

Saitou's eyes narrowed. "You should give up now."

"Shut up!" Jin attacked again. Saitou was prepared. His antics were highly predictable. It happened in a flash—so quick Kitamura barely saw it. Jin was kneeling on the ground, his weapons dropped, and his left arm was bleeding profusely.

"Jin." It was Kitamura. "If you give up now, I will let Kasatsuki or Urumi here kill you."

Jin was taken aback. "Boss! What's the meaning of this? It's a test match! I'm not supposed to die here."

Kitamura sneered at him. "You might have thought of that before you began trying to fix matches."

Jin paled.

"You think I didn't know about that, did you? You may have survived the games longer than most, but you and I both know that you didn't do it through skill alone, did you?" Kitamura continued: "You've lost my trust."

"But boss!"

_Trust. _That's it! Saitou knew what he had to do to fulfill his mission.

"This is _your _test match, Jin. Prove yourself against this old samurai, and I might spare your life."

Jin was shaking in fear and rage now. He looked from Kitamura, back to Saitou, back to Kitamura.

Then he decided.

And Saitou acted. This was his chance.

Jin fell before Kitamura's feet, Saitou standing behind him, his sword soiled with the blood of Kitamura's disposable warrior. The gash across Jin's back was deep and long, and one didn't need a doctor to tell the man was dead.

Kitamura, who'd remained quit still as Jin had attacked him, slowly clapped his hands together.

"Excellent!" he applauded Saitou. "Yes, yes, very good indeed."

Saitou allowed himself to express slight annoyance. "I'm feeling a little used here, Kitamura-san."

"Yes yes, understandable," the businessman replied. "But rest assured, either way Jin was destined for death. I can't let a man fix the results of a match," he explained. "At least not without my consent. There was little doubt in my mind that he would be easy pickings for you. And I must say I'm impressed. I've never had a newcomer leap so quickly to my rescue before. Can't say Jin would ever have done that. I usually must rely on my personal guards."

"Well, I can't very well let my employer be killed, can I?" Saitou responded.

"Indeed!" Kitamura laughed, "I can't wait see what you can _really_ do in real combat. I've decided you will fight tomorrow evening."

"Hmph. Let it be a stronger opponent next time."

"Yes, yes!" Kitamura's smile was broad and sickening. "Urumi!"

The boy beside him snapped to attention. "I want you to acquaint Sakuma-san with our humble commode, as our guest. I trust he'll be an interesting addition to our group."

_Trust_. That was the key. Now he could gain access to the rest of Kitamura's lair.


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: Heyyy~! I'm not dead! I actually started this chapter many many times over the last few months, but things weren't really 'clicking'. So, today I just sat myself down and forced myself to at least get this out. Even if it isn't perfect it will still help the plot along, and that's all that matters right now. ^_^ Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9

Night in the forest was nothing but blackness with the endless drone of cicada. Unable to continue, Chou had resigned to camp for the night. He could hear a wolf's howl above the crackling of the small fire he had sparked. His horse was tied to a nearby tree, still packed with the few necessities he had brought with him, and a small pigeon cage dangling from it's saddle bag.

Chou hated camping. He especially hated camping alone. It was dark, mosquitoes loved to make a snack of him, and frankly, it was excruciatingly dull. He couldn't wait for daybreak. At least during the day he could focus on finding the entrance to Kitamura's lair. Now, all he could do is sit, and try to think of the next step in his search.

It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Chou didn't know which way the entrance was located from the backdoor, or how far it might be. Added to the fact that he was being forced to search on his own made it nearly impossible. Chou promised himself that he'd kick the police commissioner's teeth in when this was all over. Or at least _someone's _teeth. The only thing that would make Chou feel any better about his predicament would be some good- old-fashioned ass whooping. He hadn't had a chance to use his swords in a while. He certainly didn't want his swords to get rusty. At the thought, he decided that his precious weapons were in need of a good cleaning. It would kill the time, and given the unique flexibility of his favorite sword, it required constant attention.

Chou pulled down the top of his flamboyant kimono, and carefully unwrapped his sword from his waist. He removed a rag and cleaning powder from his saddle bag and began polishing his beloved weapon. It glistened beautifully in the firelight, as he ran the rag along the cool metal. He truly believed it to be one of the most beautiful things in the world, only surpassed by a memory best left behind.

The repetitive motions lulled Chou into a meditative state, allowing his thoughts to build and flow, trying to dissect the little information he had to go on. He had marked his journey through the forest, allowing him to keep track and avoid checking the same place twice. He needed to cover as much ground has he could quickly. A second pass could be done after all the rest. He'd covered much of the Southern side extending what Chou considered a logical distance from the back entrance. The lack of habitation in the area was noteworthy. The woods were thick, which slowed Chou's search considerably. He figured that the main entrance would at least be easier to travel to...maybe there was a road or something? If Kitamura was bringing hoity-toity rich folk from overseas, he'd want them to be impressed. Shishio knew how to make an impression. He'd kept his entrance in plain sight, at the shrine of the six arches. The authorities had overlooked the sacred grounds. Did Kitamura also have his entrance in plain sight? He scanned the map. There was nothing nearby. It sure was frustrating.

The fire was beginning to die down. Chou took a break from sword cleaning and got up to get more kindling on the fire. Chou blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dying light. Wait. He closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again. Was it just him, or did the sky seem unusually bright?

It was nowhere near dawn. It wasn't the sun. The only explanation could be another fire. Inside Chou's head, something clicked. He rushed back to check his map. It took a moment to locate the manufacturing date. There! It was only made last year, but that was long enough to make all the difference in the world.

Damnit! Couldn't the Government see to it that the police force had more up-to-date maps? It was the key to Chou's dilemma. This map had been created at the height of Shishio's regime. It only meant one thing: that light was coming from one of the Meiji government's abandoned villages. And Chou was willing to bet his swords that it was worth checking out.

* * *

Sanosuke was still wracking his brain to create an escape plan that didn't involve him resorting to the _futae no kiwami _on the wall of his cell, when he heard a commotion from the arena.

"Sounds like they're testing that other guy," someone said, Sanosuke wasn't sure who. _Saitou _he thought.

Joji mumbled something.

"What was that?" Sanosuke asked Joji.

He looked at the ex-kenkaya with a drowsy expression. "I said I wonder who he's fighting."

Sanosuke didn't respond. Whoever it was, they didn't stand a chance against Saitou, he was sure of it. Saitou's well being didn't worry him. It was more the though of who he might be fighting that disturbed him. Was it some evil man who deserved Saitou's _aku soku zan_ style of justice? Or was it some poor bastard like the guys in these cells?

Sanosuke looked around the hall. No. It was probably a volunteer. Or one of the bodyguards that Joji had warned him about. He hadn't seen or heard anyone removed from the cell block, so, unless there was more than one dungeon area, Sanosuke could comfort himself thinking that there was no innocent victim in the ring.

Several minutes passed. Soon they heard footsteps echoing down the hall. They came closer, and sounded slow and a little clumsy. Two men were carrying a load—a stretcher, Sanosuke realized quickly.

"Jin! Guys! Look! It's Jin!"

There was a clamor among the prisoners. Most of them rushed to the bars, pressing their faces out to get a better look.

"Who's that?" Sanosuke asked aloud.

"A black soul." It was Hisao who spoke. Sanosuke eyed him intently, expecting a longer answer. When he didn't get one he motioned to get Joji's attention. Joji looked shocked as he answered.

"Jin was in this for fun. He was a tough guy, obnoxious, and powerful. But I thought he was a favorite of the boss. I mean, not one of his closet guards, but definitely close to it." Joji took a deep breath. "I hope I don't meet that swordsman in a fight." He touched his side wounds, frowning. "Especially at a time like this. He's gotta be pretty powerful to defeat a guy like that. I don't understand how Kitamura even let it get that far."

Sanosuke grunted. "Maybe he just outwore his usefulness."

They heard another person sauntering down the hall. In the shadows Sanosuke could make out a figure gaily swinging around an long object—an umbrella.

There was an overall hush as Kasatsuki passed by. His eyes wandered about the cells and he almost danced down the corridor. He looked at them all like he was a cat about to pick out his favorite mouse—to play with, not to eat. Kasatsuki stopped when he reached Sanosuke's cell.

"Hehehelloooo...!" he chuckled/sang. It sent a wave of disgust through Sanosuke. "The new pretty bird of Boss's collection." He made a motion with his hand like someone beckoning a dog. "Come closer little birdie."

Sanosuke found himself slightly annoyed at being call 'little' by this man. He was a good head taller than this dandy. When Sanosuke made no move to follow the order, the blonde man pulled a pistol from his waistcoat. "I _said, _come closer," he demanded. He pulled back the hammer on the weapon with a loud click.

It wasn't wise to taunt a cocked pistol, Sanosuke knew that. So, he slowly and pointedly stepped forward. He stopped just short of the bars, staring hard at him. Kasatsuki lowered the gun, and lifted the rounded handle of his umbrella to graze under Sanosuke's chin, pushing his head up, like he was inspecting the young man as one would study a horse at auction.

"Very nice. I think I see why the boss wanted you here so much." Kasatsuki's smile became more snide. "I'll have to be careful with you. I'd hate to mar such a...pretty...face."

Ok, so, it was a stupid move, Sanosuke would later admit, but for the moment it seemed vastly appropriate. And when it happened, there was a collective gasp, then silence, as Kasatsuki's face contorted in disgust, then he wiped his face with his sleeve. Sanosuke smiled smugly.

He was incredibly good at expectorating.

Once Kasatsuki cleaned his face, he growled, and pulled his pistol once again and was truly about to fire when a voice halted him.

"Kasatsuki! Stand down!"

Kitamura was approaching them. He regarded Sanosuke for a moment. "I went through a lot of trouble to get you here."

"Really? I though you hired someone else to do the work for you."

"Hmph. You're spirited. I like that. It will serve you well in the arena. I trust you understand the nature of our business by now." He didn't wait for Sanosuke's confirmation. "I want to see your abilities myself."

"It would be my pleasure, boss." Kasatsuki's voice was acidic. He was gripping his umbrella tightly, clearly intend on bashing it into Sanosuke's cranium.

"Not you." Kitamura's denial was quick and stern. "I want Urumi to test this one."

Kasatsuki had the good sense not to question the order.

"In one hour." Kitamura said simply.

* * *

Saitou was following the child bodyguard through the facility. After he'd finish in the arena Urumi wasted no time in giving him his tour. The boy, who apparently was _not _mute as Saitou had first supposed, was short and to the point. Japanese was not the kid's first language, that was certain. The accent and the way he chose his words carefully and slowly betrayed that. Despite any language barriers, it was clear that Urumi was very familiar with the complex, and he'd practiced this tour many times.

"This is the smoking room." He said. "It's mostly empty now. The guests are upstairs for the evening."

"Guests?" Saitou asked.

"Yes. There are two floors of living areas above us. Kitamura has done his best to make this a first rate hotel for his business partners."

Saitou quickly got the picture. Through out this floor, Saitou had seen a well-dressed servant here and there. But it was late, and he assumed that during the days when games were scheduled,the place was hopping with waiters and other attending staff. There must be at least a hundred staff here alone to keep a place like this running smoothly. But then, Saitou wondered, where had Kitamura found so many people willing to work in this facility, without the slightest information leak?

"Kitamura-san dreams big, doesn't he?" Saitou commented. Urumi did not respond to the comment. He merely continued leading Saitou around. "Over here, is the gallery. Guests can watch from here and bet on their favorites. All the betting is done here. Every game, the fighters are brought before the gallery so people can place their bets."

"I see. Only the most orderly of bloodshed." He smiled as he said this, hoping for some sort of reaction from the boy. Nothing.

"Kitamura-san is a very organized man. He is a very great man. He is good to us."

The words were hollow as they escaped the boy's mouth. They, like every other word the boy spoke, seemed rehearsed. Saitou wondered if any of Urumi's speeches were his own.

"How many floors down are we?"

"Four."

"So, there's the arena down below and the two floors of rooms above. What's on the top floor?"

Urumi tilted his head to the side. "Supply closets."

It was an absurdly simplistic answer. Supply closets. No doubt Kitamura's first line of defense would be up there—guns, amunition, explosives, swords—everything he'd need to hold off a government attack. Maybe there'd be office space there as well, with file cabinets filled to the brim with damning evidence of his exploits.

"Urumi!" Kasatsuki's voice practiacally barked at them from across the room. The two turned to face him.

"Yes."

Kasatsuki looked positively livid. Wonder what has him so riled up? "Boss wants you to come to the arena."

"Oh." The boy didn't say anything else. He just turned on his heel and set out downstairs.

"He doesn't say much, does he?" Saitou muttered.

Kasatsuki grunted. "He doesn't say much, but does everything boss orders, without question. And he's our best fighter. Next to me, of course." His tone wasn't one of a braggart, but one of a man puffing up to reaffirm his position over others. Saitou did not doubt that he was a formidable opponent compared to most people, but his overt posturing was amusing.

"You'll see downstairs, if you care to watch. Urumi will be testing that man they call Zanza."


	10. Chapter Ten

AN: OK, I know, I'm taking forever to update. I swear I'm working on this. So many plans. I just have a ton of trouble sitting down and getting things done. ;.; Thanks for putting up with me!

Chapter 10

When Sanosuke was brought to the arena, he was escorted by three armed guards and his hands were cuffed. Even hands bound, he could have defeated them easily. But with no escape plan, a test fight in the arena was preferable to dying pointlessly.

Saitou watched with mild concern. Sanosuke was to fight Urumi. Besides Kasatsuki, Urumi was the one other fighter that Saitou felt could pose a problem for the Rooster head. Saitou didn't feel too concerned about any of the other opponents he'd seen. They all seemed to be run-of-the-mill. Not one was any stronger than Sanosuke had seen before Kyoto. But he couldn't read the young foreign boy in the slightest, and that worried him.

Sanosuke has always fought from an emotional or moral standpoint. Saitou had witnessed it whenever the Ahou had tried attacking him. He'd also seen it in the fight against Anji. No doubt, fighting for his own life was motivation enough to fight, but if Sanosuke could not find a deeper reason...would he really have the motivation to _defeat_ his opponent? Saitou pushed these worries to the back of his mind. This was a test fight. Sanosuke would not be killed this night, no matter the outcome of this battle.

Saitou took a deep breath. The ahou better come out of this mission alive. The paperwork would be annoying. And Battousai would no doubt raise hell.

"It's nice to see you coming along quietly!" Kitamura called from the stands. "I hope this good behavior lasts." Sanosuke glared back at him.

Urumi was already in the arena. He had his weapon now. It was truly unusual. Four blades, thin as ribbons dangled to the floor. Each one was a shorter version of Chou's _hakujin no tachi. _On his wrist was strapped a small shield. Not good, Saitou thought. That weapon would be incredibly hard to block or avoid. The ahou still hadn't learned the importance of defense. His blasted stubbornness would be his downfall.

Sanosuke was left by himself in the middle of the ring while a few men rolled out a rack filled to the brim with all sorts of weapons. "You may have your pick of any weapon here."

"What if I want something not here?"

Kitamura grinned. "Did you have something in mind?"

Sanosuke sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter."

Hn. So Sanosuke was looking for his old favorite, Saitou realized. It wouldn't be the worst choice against Urumi. The _zanbato's _reach would give him a better standing, and it's sheer smashing ability would be devastating. Sanosuke was famous for using that sword, and Kitamura _must _ have known that. He must be more interested in what Sanosuke could do with his fists. He could understand why Kitamura wanted Sanosuke in his arena. Between Sanosuke's _futae no kiwami_ and his ability with that large brutish sword, he made for an excellent show fighter. Still, no thoughts of defense, Saitou lamented.

Kitamura ordered his men to remove the handcuffs. "You may begin."

And so they did.

Urumi began to swing his weapon about furiously. It's was continuous motion, constantly in a speedy circular pattern. The shield, Saitou realized was a secondary defense. The blades themselves, provided a constant barrier which Sanosuke would have to penetrate if he wanted to strike. Saitou groaned internally. This was not good.

Sanosuke was equally wary. He guessed that those blades were sharp as a razor, but he also wondered how accurately they could cut. Sharp edges meant nothing if the angle was off. But he'd heard about Chou's weapon, and how well he could control it's direction, and from the looks of it, this kid was no novice. Suddenly the blades shot towards him. Sanosuke darted out of the way. He didn't have time to pause before rolled away again. This kid was fast.

Shit. How was he going to get past him?

There was a great deal more dodging, and soon Sanosuke found himself ducking behind the weapons rack. From behind his cover, which then splintered beneath the force of Urumi's blades, sending weapons clattering to the arena floor. Sanosuke felt one of the blades whiz by his ear and noticed a small lock of his wild hair fall to the ground. Shit, that was close. No doubt about the blade's edge now.

"Stop running away and fight back!" It was Kasatsuki who yelled. "Or is the little birdie afraid to get his wings clipped?"

Saitou suppressed a smirk. Kasatsuki has just helped their situation.

Sanosuke growled deeply, and faster than anyone could see, he reared his arm, and the weapon rack exploded to sawdust. Urumi was not prepared for this, and became disoriented, his eyes burning as the pulverized wood flew into his face.

Sanosuke rushed the boy, who'd tried to regain composure, and renew his deadly flailing. He winced as the blades caught his shoulder. Blood splattered about, the blade flinging it as they circled. Sanosuke gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. He landed a straight punch to the boy—which Urumi managed to block with his shield, but the blow still forced him to the ground.

Urumi rolled out of his fall and was up again in an instant and his blades crashed by Sanosuke's feet, causing him to jump away. He recovered and was about to retaliate when he heard Kitamura shout: "ENOUGH!" Urumi froze his attack, and automatically assumed a neutral position. He looked at Sanosuke and bowed politely, then dutifully turned to Kitamura, awaiting new instructions.

There was a grand smile across Kitamura's face. He clapped his hands in appreciation. "Well done, well done! I see the rumors were true. Zanza truly is the strongest brawler in Tokyo. What was that thing you did to the rack? I've never seen anything like it. Oh, bravo. I hope you will give us an encore of that tomorrow night!"

"I'm not some geisha dancing for your enjoyment!" Sanosuke barked at Kitamura. "I'll do what it takes to survive. And I _will_ make it through. I'll get out of here, and when I do I'll—!"

_Clash! _Sanosuke almost jumped as Urumi's sword struck the ground by Sanosuke in warning. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sanosuke forced himself to calm.

"You will enter the arena tomorrow, like it or not." Kitamura assured him. "But for now, take Zanza to the infirmary. Get his shoulder examined. I want him patched up for tomorrow." Sanosuke was soon put back into cuffs and led to the infirmary.

"He seems impressive, doesn't he, Sakuma?" Kitamura said to Saitou as Sanosuke was led away.

"Hn," Saitou said loudly enough so that Sanosuke could hear. "He'd be _more_ impressive if he knew the basics of defense."

Though he was far away by then, Saitou could hear Sanosuke curse aloud. "Though, I must admit, he's very energetic. He may yet have some more surprises in store for us."

Kitamura emphatically agreed. "Yes yes. We will see tomorrow. And you, I've decided you will fight as well."

"Who is to be my opponent, if I may be so bold?" Saitou asked quickly. "Surely someone stronger that Jin was."

"You'll find out tomorrow." Kitamura elaborated. "I allow our guests to wager on these fights. I also allow them to pick favorites to pit against one another. It's not something I can always predict. That's part of the problem I had with Jin. He might not have been the greatest warrior, but he could certainly play the system. He'd have been a good business man if he wasn't so uncouth. He made sure that he was picked to fight opponents of his choice. A rich benefactor here and there can greatly increase the odds of survival."

"I see," Saitou considered. "I only want to fight strong opponents. Striking deals only make one grow slow and stupid."

"A true warrior." Kitamura smiled. "So rare in this Meiji Era. It's getting late, I'm going to retire now. You might want to rest up as well. I look forward to watching you tomorrow."

"Then I shall aim to please, sir." Saitou bowed and Kitamura left with Urumi close behind.

If it weren't for the fire light of the village, Chou would never have found it. The trail leading to the tiny community was narrow and well camouflaged by the local foliage. When he did find the path, he decided to dismount. He found a hollowed out tree nearby and stashed whatever belongings there that might make him suspicious.

He left the bird, the map, and small bit of parchment and a pen in the tree. Chou really liked the pen. The fountain pen was probably the niftiest invention the West had to offer. It was far more convenient—if expensive—than a brush, and it was definitely Chou's greatest time saver. Also, he'd taken it from the Commissioner's office. It was petty, yes, but given this ridiculous mission, Chou was willing to find satisfaction in even the smallest of slights.

After securing his belongings, he led the horse down the trail. On the way, he took dirt from the ground and rubbed it on his clothes and face. It was all in the details. He wanted it to look like he'd been traveling much further than he had. After all, he was just traveling through. Maybe some desperate ronin, or vagabond, trying to find work, trying to get his next meal. He had to look the part. The swords upon his person made him look more threatening, and it was what he wanted. Innocent people wouldn't want to deal with a dangerous swordsman. And if the entrance to Kitamura's _was _in this town, then he could play the part of an ignorant stranger when approached.

The sun was gaining strength in the sky as he entered the village. There were a few vendors selling rice and other vegetables, some children playing by the side of a decrepit house. He could see a few rice paddies and farming plots carved carefully into the hillside. It was amazing really. The settlement was in a hidden valley, protected from intruders by thick forest and natural rocky barriers. A perfect place for a hideout.

Chou had to be absolutely certain that this was the right place before he could send word to the Commissioner. He passed by the townsfolk, the playing children stopped and pointed at his weapons and horse in excitement. He casually nodded in their direction. A little girl squeaked and hid behind a barrel, while a boy laughed at her behavior. Another slightly older child gave the younger boy a slap to the head and scolded him. Chou turned his attention away from them and lazily approached the rice vendor, who looked up at him with nervous eyes.

"Welcome young sir!" he said, mustering up enough courage to sound cheerful. "How may I help you today?"

Chou tilted his head to acknowledge the middle-aged man. "I'll take a bag of rice for my journey." Chou dug into his pocket for a few coins.

"Yes, yes!" The balding man, who reminded Chou of an oversized bean, bent over to scoop grains of rice into a woven sack. "Anything else I can help you with?"

Chou thought for a moment. "Yeah. Don't suppose there's an inn 'round here?"

The vendor shook his head.

"Yeah, I figured." Chou sighed, making himself look exasperated. Time to play the weary traveler card. "Too bad. Be travelin' fer days. Ground's not the most comfortable bed. But I reckon I can manage."

"May I ask where you are headed? We don't get many visitors here." The vendor looked genuinely curious, but Chou knew better than to trust appearances. This town was likely crawling with Kitamura's men. Even if the vendor wasn't directly working for Kitamura's group, he'd still likely be feeding information to them. Chou chose his story carefully.

"Trying to get to Otsu," he told him. "Got a tad bit lost I reckon. Didn't 'spect to find anybody out in these here woods." Chou gestured about. "Almost didn't see the path till I was right on top of it."

"Yes, it does sneak up on you, doesn't it?" The vendor smiled, then pointed to Chou's weapons. "You have some nice equipment there. You must be brave to carry them in broad daylight."

"Well, I ain't gonna let some government official make me hide these beauties in my closet, nosiree. It's a cryin' shame to let fine craftsmanship like this to go to waste." He stroked his swords lovingly.

"I can tell you're an experienced swordsman. You hold those swords like old friends." The vendor's face darkened. "I hope you're not looking for trouble, showing them off as you are."

"Aw, shoot." Chou gave him a mock-offended look. "I ain't got no quarrel with you. Should I be on the lookout?"

The vendor didn't answer, but he pointedly looked beyond where Chou stood. Chou followed his gaze. A few shacks down, a few men were loitering, a couple holding farming tools. Tattoos peeked from under their simple kimono. Yakuza, Chou realized. It wasn't surprising. Kitamura would no doubt have the local family policing the town.

It was then that Chou saw him. The same bowler hat fat man from the carriage. The man who'd accepted Saitou and Sanosuke at the train station. He was standing just behind the men with an aura of authority.

Chou handed the vendor his payment quickly, whilst trying to keep nonchalant. "Thank ya, kindly. Ya don't happen to know which way Otsu is, now?"

"I'm sorry sir. I'm not well traveled. No one here leaves this town."

"That right? Well, I guess I'll be on my way then." Chou turned the way he came. Seeing fat man from the station was all the proof he needed. Now he just needed to—"

"Where do you thinking you're going in such a hurry?" Chou groaned, and looked back at the pack of yakuza, now approaching him. _Well then, there goes any chance of a quick exit. _Chou dropped his bag of rice and prepared for the inevitable skirmish.


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Omg a quick update (relatively) for once. Not as much happens in this chapter as previous ones, but it felt like a good stopping point.

* * *

Sanosuke's shoulder was throbbing by the time the guards escorted him to the infirmary. The room had three futons, all stacked in the corner, ready to be laid out for the next victims to be treated. Everything else in the room was very Western, with a desk and chairs on one side. Cabinets filled to the brim with medicinal herbs and creams and medical instruments lined the walls.

Sanosuke was made to sit in one of the chairs by the desk. A moment later, a young man not much older than Sanosuke entered and sighed upon seeing his injured shoulder. He gave a dry look to the guards.

"Really? He hasn't even been here a day and he's in my office," the doctor said. He shook his head. "Let's get you patched up then. Take off your jacket." He opened up a cabinet which held many rolls of bandages and pull one out. Then he retrieved a container of something Sanosuke could not see.

"What's your name?" The young doctor asked Sanosuke, while picking up a notepad from his desk drawer.

"Sagara Sanosuke," he answered. "What does it matter?"

The Doctor gave Sanosuke a smile. "Any self-respecting Doctor keeps records of their patients."

Sanosuke glared back at him. "Any self-respecting doctor wouldn't be working for a guy like Kitamura."

"Then I suppose I must be lacking some self-respect." The doctor conceded, smiling with an air of—what? Sadness? Pity? Apology? Sanosuke felt himself studying the doctor as he began to inspect his shoulder.

Something was off.

"What's your name?' Sanosuke asked.

The doctor never dropped his attention from the wound. "Masato Yuki."

"So, how does a man of medicine end up working in a place like this? You people are supposed help people, not patch them up and send them back to die like dogs for profit."

Masato didn't say anything for a moment. "It isn't is bad as it looks," he eventually said. His was gaze still focused on the battered shoulder, and Sanosuke wasn't sure if he was answering his question or referring to the wound.

"The cut isn't too deep, but it's messy. Not unusual for Urumi. I'm going to put in a few stitches to the cleaner parts. For the rest, I'll just have to apply a salve and bandage tightly to keep it clean and together. Try to go easy on it for a couple of days.

"A couple of days? Hah. Kitamura said I'm fighting tomorrow. Seems to me he's a guy who sticks to his schedules."

"That is unfortunate." Masato sighed. "I can do nothing but give my medical opinion."

"Bullshit!" Sanosuke yelled. He felt his anger building up. "Don't pretend to have no influence! It takes a lot of people to set up a place like this. That's a lot of people who have given in to fear or greed, to give Kitamura this death pit. You've seen most of this shit first hand. If you were a real doctor you might stand up for all the guys locked up in those cells! It's weak idiots like you that really drive me crazy!"

"Tell me, Sagara-san!" Masato countered. "How many people can a dead doctor save?"

The words struck Sanosuke silent.

"They could kill me. If I die, who will replace me? How can I know that my replacement will give a damn about anyone? At least if I stay, I might help a few survive."

Sanosuke sighed. He really couldn't argue with that. Infuriating as his atitude was, the doctor's rebuttal definitely filled Sanosuke with hope. If Masato was being honest (Sanosuke did feel he was being sincere) then this disgruntled doctor could be the crack in the armor that Sanosuke and Saitou needed. They just needed to figure out how to use him.

"So, are you gonna patch me up, Doc, or what?"

Masato didn't waste any more time. He grabbed a cleanser for Sanosuke's shoulder. It burned like hell when he applied it to the cut. Sanosuke grunted at the pain. Why did it always seem that treatments were worse than the injury themselves? With little apology Masato went about stitching up the shoulder where he could. When he finished, he applied a salve. It almost instantly began to sooth the pain that the doctor had inflicted moments before.

"How does it feel?"

Sanosuke flexed his arm a bit. "Stiff, but much more comfortable. Thanks."

Masato handed Sanosuke his 'aku' jacket, then reached out to shake his hand. As soon as Masato's hand enclosed around Sanosuke's, the young fighter winced and tried to pull away.

"What's wrong with your hand?" He demanded, forcing a closer look. "This bandaging isn't just for protecting your knuckles. No one said you had anything wrong except your shoulder, so this must be an old wound."

"Hey! Don't manhandle it!" Sanosuke barked.

"I'm not manhandling anything Sagara-san." Masato poked about the bandaged area, eliciting another hiss from the young fighter. "It's like you shattered a window and tried to glue it back together, poorly. How did that happen? An accident?"

Sanosuke growled as he pried his injured hand away. "Only if you call Shishio Makoto an accident."

Now a true look of bewilderment passed Masato's features. "Shishio Makoto? The...well...man who almost well...took over?"

It was Sanosuke's turn to be surprised. "Most people don't know who Shishio is, let alone that he attempted a secret revolution."

Masato's tone was cautious. He glanced about, making sure that the guards were out of ears reach. "You asked how I could work for a man like Kitamura. I wouldn't be here if Shishio Makoto had never existed. And even now, with him gone, I'm still trapped by that demon's legacy." He took a deep breath. He began to replace the wrappings on Saosuke's battered hand. "I was the local physician in my town. When Shishio showed up, he rooted out anyone who would be useful. I left to protect my family. Even in death, nothing changes. The Meiji government will never account for everything that man did, or all the people that helped in him there."

"You're saying Kitamura was buddies with Shishio Makoto?"

Masato nodded. "They had many business dealings. I do not know the specifics." He took a breath. "So you managed to defeat him?"

Sanosuke shook his head. "I'm not the hero there. It was a group effort. In the end, Shishio sort of destroyed himself."

Masato quirked an eyebrow.

"It's complicated," Sanosuke said.

"But still. It means you are strong. Probably the strongest man I've seen in this arena." The doctor seemed to be contemplating something crucial. Finally, all he said was "good luck" before calling the guards back in. Sanosuke could do nothing but wonder what the doctor had been pondering as he was escorted back to his prison cell.

Or at least, it was all he could think of until he heard the ruckus coming from the prison wing. As they neared, the shouting grew louder. The same cackling and jeering remarks that had heralded Sanosuke's arrival were now intermingled with the frantic shouts of Kitamura's men. Before Sanosuke and his captors entered the long hallway a man ran past their group, back in the direction of the doctor's office. There was blood all over his clothes.

"Hey, what's going on?" One of the henchmen called to him as he made off. The man kept running, but shouted something about a 'traveler' and 'dead'. Sanosuke began to grow anxious. His fears were realized when they finally got to Sanosuke's cell.

In the adjacent hold, Chou was crumpled on the floor. Men were locking his door with a sense of urgency and sending messengers to inform Kitamura of an infiltrator.

At that point all Sanosuke could think was that they were all finished. Chou was supposed to be their lifeline. If he'd been captured, then their whole plan was in jeopardy. Who was going to tell the Kyoto police their whereabouts? Shit. None of this was any kind of good.

"Joji!" Sanosuke called over to the next cell. "What the hell's going on here?"

Joji already had his face poking through the bars. "Dunno. I was just resting here when I here the commotion. Some traveler came along and trashed the place, I guess. Took a few of Kitamura's men down before they got him in. At least two guys are dead. Another guy was all bloodied up. Not sure if it was his blood though."

Sanosuke took in this new information. So Chou killed a couple guys on his way in. Sanosuke fervently hoped that if Chou was here, then maybe he'd already notified the police. He looked over where Chou was lying on the floor. "He doesn't look good."

"He's been poisoned." It was Masao who spoke. Sanosuke and Joji looked to the old man. "I've seen it before. If he took down two men on his way in, then they would have needed to subdue him some other way. His eyes were clouded as they dragged him here. He only passed out completely a few moments ago."

"Will he live?" Sanosuke asked.

Masao studied Sanosuke carefully. "They rarely kill anyone they've locked up—not before sending them to fight at least. They might have more questions to ask. But just by looking at him, it might be a few hours before we'll have any new information."

The hallway din began to hush as Kasatsuki, Urumi, and Kitamura approached the newly occupied cell.

"What happened?" Kitamura demanded.

"This guy showed up, said he was lost," explained one of his lackeys. "He had swords on him, so we decided to bring him in. He was strong—we were five on one, and he got two of us before we managed to bring him down."

"People don't just wander into town." Kitamura frowned. "I want extra patrols on the perimeter. Make sure every man is well armed. We can risk anyone else getting in."

"Yes, sir!"

As the lackey trotted away, Kasatsuki spoke up. "I'd be happy to interrogate him when he wakes up, boss."

"We shall see," Kitamura said, neither giving nor denying permission. "I want to know if there's a threat to our business before I send him to the arena. His fate can be decided there. Urumi!" The boy had been silently observing the situation. "I want you to oversee the patrols. Anyone who wanders in is to be killed on sight."

The boy silently bowed then slipped away.

Kitamura looked to Chou then to Sanosuke and the rest of the prisoners. "All of you, stop your gawking. You'll want to be rested for tomorrow's show. I have a feeling things are going to get very interesting." He chuckled as he left. Kasatsuki followed his boss, but not before giving a sinister glare to all the prisoners. His eyes landed on Sanosuke and he let his lips curl into a smirk that actually managed to irk the young man. There was something in that smile that went beyond the realm of disdain or hatred. Sanosuke didn't want to know what it was. He just hoped that all this would be resolved quickly, before anything else could go wrong.

He settled down to wait, praying Chou would wake up soon.

Outside the compound, patrols were stretching far into the surrounding forest.

A lone figure was crouched in the shadows waiting to make his move.


End file.
